Saint Peter

I hit the streets of Saint Petersburg for the first time today, solo! First mistake, forgetting my map on the table. Imagine, a tall woman walking around in a powder room yellow jacket with a running room headband in a sea of black and fur. I had to venture to my language school to register my visa. I left the house with only the name of the street in my head. No surprise, I was instantly lost. Most countries I have visited have signs in English as well as the native language. Here is 100% Russian. I wandered the slippery paths along the grafitti ridden buildings. I imagined Saint Petersburg as a historic gem; the history is there, but so poorly maintained. The plaster was falling off nearly every corner, and the streets were dirty and in a constant state of disrepair. I felt so uncomfortable, mostly because of the language barrier. The only person I have met so far who was nice to me, outside the house of women I am living with, was Peter. When I arrived late on Sunday, the language school picked me up, as well as Peter. What a gentleman. He is from Slovakia and will be in the city for three months, taking Russian lessons everyday. I quickly scribbled my email in hopes that this tall dark Slavic sexy man would maybe get in touch with me. Bu alas, that only happens in the movies. Today, my fate changed. Once I miraculously found my way to the school's office, I was met by a smile from the lips of my angel; Saint Peter! It must have been fate that I got lost for so long before reaching the door right as Peter and his classmates were leaving. In a moment, the loneliness I was feeling melted away. He invited me for lunch, and I met a few more students all learning Russian. Each had been studying this complex language for over two years, so I was a joke compared to them. But Peter was so kind and helped me order in Russian. When we parted ways, he assured we would meet again, and I received a kiss on each cheek. Now this is a bit closer to what I imagined my trip would be!
Now, you are propably all wondering what my host family is like. As I am writing on my iPod, I will have To wait until my thumbs have a chance to stretch. Dasvedanya!!